Page 31 of The Moonstone Pirate
“I’ll risk it. Pirates are daring that way. I am not going to leave you while you are obviously distressed.”
“Why? What do you think I will do?” She frowned at him. “I assure you, I am not some dotty peahen who will wither away and live with cats into her dotage because the only man she has ever kissed will not have her.”
“Good grief, Imogen.”
“Please go away. I shall be fine once you do. You really ought to leave, because I need to start on those sketches, assuming you truly want them and are not just pretending in order to make me feel useful or to keep me distracted and out of your hair.”
“I want them,” he said with surprising insistence. “Draw every detail you can remember of each wizard, his size, weight, curve of his mouth, rings on his fingers, any jewelry on him, any distinguishing marks or facial features. Moles, discolorations, anything prominent that jumped out at you.”
“Got it.”
He sighed again. “I’m sorry I have made you angry. I’m not sure what I have done. But I’ll leave you now and come by tomorrow shortly before noon.”
She said nothing until he reached the parlor doors. “Draco,” she called out, “be careful riding home. The paths are very dark at night.”
He smiled at her, his handsome face appearing even handsomer in the glow of the parlor lights. “Will do, Butterfly. I am always careful.”
Imogen did not return to the parlor until Draco had bidden everyone farewell and left for Woodley Lodge. Perhaps sheought to have insisted he take Parrot with him, since they now knew Driscoll had been the intended victim and the killer was not likely to return. Nor had any of Driscoll’s dissolute friends remained in Moonstone Landing to bother her. They had all run back to London like scared rabbits.
Just thinking of those leering louts sent a shiver through her.
Well, she would offer to give Parrot back to Draco tomorrow. Deandra and her father could return, too, since the house and grounds would have been thoroughly searched for clues by then. There was no reason for them to stay on at Westgate Hall once the constable and his men had finished investigating the area of the crime.
Phoebe was the only one left in the parlor when she walked back inside. “Imogen, are you all right?”
She nodded.
“Why did you run off like that? Because Deandra was trying to match you with Lord Woodley?”
She nodded again. “Yes, that and the fact he made it painfully clear to everyone that he does not want me.”
Phoebe surprised her by laughing. “You think he does not want you?”
“He said so quite plainly. Did you not hear him? He told Deandra to stop pushing ladies at him. He repeated as much when he and I were alone on the terrace, making clear he wanted no one special in his life, most of all me.Most of all me.Am I that horrible? I cannot figure him out. One moment I think he likes me. Oh, not in an amorous way, but as a woman to admire. Then he says that low thing about my being the last woman he would ever want.”
“Imogen, dear.” Phoebe wrapped an arm around her and laughed lightly. “You have misinterpreted his words. You aremostimportant to push away because he ismostattracted to you. He could not stop looking at you all evening. The man waspractically devouring you with those gorgeous silver eyes of his. Yes, even happily married ladies like myself notice such things. Do you know how many times I had to grab hold of your uncle’s hand to keep him from leaping across the table and stabbing his fork into Lord Woodley?”
Imogen shook her head and laughed. “Seriously? I can imagine Uncle Cormac doing just such a thing. He has always been so protective of Ella and me. Although he is hardly one to be incensed when he was one of the worst hounds ever to prowl around London. He was completely wicked until he met you. Even once he had reformed, he would kiss you every chance he got and did not care who saw him do it.”
Phoebe laughed again. “Oh, he was irresistibly wicked. But he loved me and was determined to marry me. That made all the difference. I felt his love. I knew he wanted me by his side forever.”
Imogen had to agree. Her uncle had fallen in love with Phoebe at first sight and would have died to protect her from that very moment on. The looks he shot Phoebe always held promise that he would be faithful to her, that he would love and cherish her to his dying day, and that he would always be a good husband to her.
But this was not how Draco looked at her, Imogen mused. Perhaps she had misunderstood and he did like her, but it was nothing to the depths of what Uncle Cormac and Phoebe shared. “I owe him some drawings. I had better get started on them. Thank you, Aunt Phoebe.”
“Feel better now?”
Imogen nodded. “Yes, very much. I love you.”
“Oh, Imogen. I love you too.” Phoebe gave her a kiss on the cheek, and they walked upstairs arm in arm.
Uncle Cormac was waiting for them on the landing. “Everything all right?”
Phoebe nodded. “Yes, my love. All is perfect.”
He arched an eyebrow and awaited a word from Imogen.
“Yes, Uncle Cormac. All is well. Draco has not said or done anything untoward. It is just… I like him. And I really don’t want to like him as much as I do, because I hardly know him. Then I became overset because he said he did not like me.”
